In the Bishop's Carriage

by Miriam Michelson

  V.

  Do you remember Lady Patronesses' Day at the Cruelty, Mag? Remember howthe place smelt of cleaning ammonia on the bare floors? Remember theblack dresses we all wore, and the white aprons with the little bibs,and the oily sweetness of the matron, and how our faces shone andtingled from the soap and the rubbing? Remember it all?

  Well, who'd 'a' thought then that Nance Olden ever would make use ofit--on the level, too!

  Drop the Cruelty, and tell you about the stage? Why, it's bare boardsback there, bare as the Cruelty, but oh, there's something that youdon't see, but you feel it--something magic that makes you want topinch yourself to be sure you're awake. I go round there just dopedwith it; my face, if you could see it, must look like Molly's kid'swhen she is telling him fairy stories.

  I love it, Mag! I love it!

  And what do I do? That's what I was trying to tell you about theCruelty for. It's in a little act that was made for Lady Gray, thatthere are four Charity girls on the stage, and I'm one of 'em.

  Lady Gray? Why, Mag, how can you ever hope to get on if you don't knowwho's who? How can you expect me to associate with you if you're soignorant? Yes--a real Lady, as real as the wife of a Lord can be.Lord Harold Gray's a sure enough Lord, and she's his wife but--but achippy, just the same; that's what she is, in spite of the Grayemeralds and that great Gray rose diamond she wears on the tiniestchain around her scraggy neck. Do you know, Mag Monahan, that thisLady Harold Gray was just a chorus girl--and a sweet chorus it musthave been if she sang there!--when she nabbed Lord Harold?

  You'd better keep your eye on Nancy Olden, or first thing you knowshe'll marry the Czar of Russia--or Tom Dorgan, poor fellow, when hegets out! ... Well, just the same, Mag, if that white-faced, scrawnylittle creature can be a Lady, a girl with ten times her brains, and atleast half a dozen times her good looks--oh, we're not shy on thestage, Mag, about throwing bouquets at ourselves!

  Can she act? Don't be silly, Mag! Can't you see that Obermuller'sjust hiring her title and playing it in big letters on the bills forall it's worth? She acts the Lady Patroness, come to look at usCharity girls. She comes on, though, looking like a fairy princess.Her dress is just blazing with diamonds. There's the Lady's coronet inher hair. Her thin little arms are banded with gold and diamonds, andon her neck--O Mag, Mag, that rose diamond is the color of rose-leavesin a fountain's jet through which the sun is shining. It's long--longas my thumb--I swear it is, Mag--nearly, and it blazes, oh, it blazes--

  Well, it blazes dollars into Obermuller's box all right, for the Grayjewels are advertised in the bill with this one at the head of thelist, the star of them all.

  You see it's this way: Lord Harold Gray's bankrupt. He's poor as--asNance Olden. Isn't that funny? But he's got the family jewels allright, to have as long as he lives. Nary a one can he sell, though,for after his death, they go to the next Lord Gray. So he makes 'emmake a living for him, and as they can't go on and exhibit themselves,Lady Gray sports 'em--and draws down two hundred dollars a week.

  Yep--two hundred.

  But do you know it isn't the two hundred dollars a week that makes meenvy her till I'm sick; it's that rose diamond. If you could only seeit, Mag, you'd sympathize with me, and understand why my fingers justitched for it the first night I saw her come on.

  'Pon my soul, Mag, the sight of it blazing on her neck dazzled me sothat it shut out all the staring audience that first night, and I evenforgot to have stage fright.

  "What's doped you, Olden?" Obermuller asked when the curtain went down,and we all hurried to the wings.

  I was in the black dress with the white-bibbed apron, and I looked upat him still dazed by the shine of that diamond and my longing for it.You'd almost kill with your own hands for a diamond like that, Mag!

  "Doped? Why--what didn't I do?" I asked him.

  "That's just it," he said, looking at me curiously; but I could feelhis disappointment in me.

  "You didn't do anything--not a blasted thing more than you were told todo. The world's full of supers that can do that."

  For just a minute I forgot the diamond.

  "Then--it's a mistake? You were wrong and--and I can't be an actress?"

  He threw back his head before he answered, puffing a mouthful of smokeup at the ceiling, as he did the night he caught me. The gestureitself seemed to remind him of what had made him think in the firstplace he could make an actress of me. For he laughed down at me, and Isaw he remembered.

  "Well," he said, "we'll wait and see... I was mistaken, though, sureenough, about one thing that night." I looked up at him.

  "You're a darn sight prettier than I thought you were. The gold brickyou sold me isn't all--"

  He put out his hand to touch my chin. I side-stepped, and he turnedlaughing to the stage.

  But he called after me.

  "Is a beauty success going to content you, Olden?"

  "Well, we'll wait and see," I drawled back at him in his own throatybass.

  Oh, I was drunk, Mag, drunk with thinking about that diamond! I didn'tcare even to please Obermuller. I just wanted the feel of that diamondin my hand. I wanted it lying on my own neck--the lovely, cool,shining, rosy thing. It's like the sunrise, Mag, that beauty stone.It's just a tiny pool of water blushing. It's--

  How to get it! How to get away with it! On what we'd get for thatdiamond, Tom and I--when his time is up--could live for all our livesand whoop it up besides. We could live in Paris, where great grafterslive and grafting pays--where, if you've got wit and fifty thousanddollars, and happen to be a "darn sight prettier," you can just spinthe world around your little finger!

  But, do you know, even then I couldn't bear to think of selling thepretty thing? It hurt me to think of anybody having it but just NanceOlden.

  But I hadn't got it yet.

  Gray has a dressing-room to herself. And on her table--which is a bigbox, open end down--just where the three-sided big mirror can multiplythe jewels and make you want 'em three times as bad, her bigrussia-leather, silver-mounted box lies open, while she's dressing andundressing. Other times it's locked tight, and his Lordship himselfhas it tight in his own right hand, or his Lordship's man, Topham, hasit just as tight.

  How to get that diamond! There was a hard nut for Nance Olden's sharpteeth to crack. I only wanted that--never say I'm greedy, Mag--Graycould keep all the rest of the things--the pigeon in rubies and pearls,the tiara all in diamonds, the chain of pearls, and the blazing rings,and the waist-trimming all of emeralds and diamond stars. But thatdiamond, that huge rose diamond, I couldn't, I just couldn't let herhave it.

  And yet I didn't know the first step to take toward getting it, tillBeryl Blackburn helped me out. She's one of the Charities, like me--atall bleached blonde with a pretty, pale face and gold-gray eyes. And,if you'd believe her, there's not a man in the audience, afternoon orevening, that isn't dead-gone on her.

  "Guess who's my latest," she said to me this afternoon, while we fourCharities stood in the wings waiting. "Topham--old Topham!"

  It all got clear to me then in a minute.

  "Topham--nothing!" I sneered. "Beryl Big-head, Topham thinks of onlyone thing--Milady's jewel-box. Don't you fool yourself."

  "Oh, does he, Miss! Well, just to prove it, he let me try on the rosediamond last night. There!"

  "It's easy to say so but I don't see the proof. He'd lose his job soquick it'd make his head spin if he did it."

  "Not if he did, but if they knew he did. You'll not tell?"

  "Not me. Why would I? I don't believe it, and I wouldn't expectanybody else to. I don't believe you could get Topham to budge fromhis chair in Gray's dressing-room if you'd--"

  "What'll you bet?"

  "I'll bet you the biggest box of chocolate creams at Huyler's."

  "Done! I'll send for him to-night, just before Gray and her Lord come,and you see--"

  "How'll I see? Where'll I be?"

  "Well, you be waiting in the little hall,
right of Gray's dressing-roomat seven-thirty to-night and--you might as well bring the creams withyou."

  Catch on, Mag? At seven-thirty in the evening I was waiting; but notin the little hall of Gray's dressing-room. I hadn't gone home at allafter the afternoon performance--you know we play at three, and againat eight-thirty. I had just hidden me away till the rest were gone,and as soon as the coast was clear I got into Gray's dressing-room,pushed aside the chintz curtains of the big box that makes herdressing-table--and waited.

  Lord, how the hours dragged! I hadn't had anything to eat since lunch,and it got darker and darker in there, and hot and close and cramped.I put in the time, much as I could, thinking of Tom. The very firstthing I'd do after cashing in, would be to get up to Sing Sing to seehim. I'm crazy to see him. I'd tell him the news and see if hecouldn't bribe a guard, or plan some scheme with me to get out soon.

  Afraid--me? What of? If they found me under that box I'd just give'em the Beryl story about the bet. How do you know they wouldn'tbelieve it? ... Oh, I don't care, you've got to take chances, MagMonahan, if you go in for big things. And this was big--huge. Do youknow how much that diamond's worth? And do you know how to spend fiftythousand?

  I spent it all there--in the box--every penny of it. When I got tiredspending money I dozed a bit and, in my dream, spent it over again.And then I waked and tried to fancy new ways of getting rid of it, butmy head ached, and my back ached, and my whole body was so strained andcramped that I was on the point of giving it all up when--that blessedold Topham came in.

  He set the big box down with a bang that nearly cracked my head. Heturned on the lights, and stood whistling Tommy Atkins. And thensuddenly there came a soft call, "Topham! Topham!"

  I leaned back and bit my fingers till I knew I wouldn't shriek. TheEnglishman listened a minute. Then the call came again, and Tophamcreaked to the door and out.

  In a twinkling I was out, too, you bet.

  Mag! He hadn't opened the box at all! There it stood in the middle ofthe space framed by the three glasses. I pulled at the lid. Locked!I could have screamed with rage. But the sound of his step outside thedoor sobered me. He was coming back. In a frantic hurry I turnedtoward the window which I had unlocked when I came in four hours ago.But I hadn't time to make it. I heard the old fellow's hand on thedoor, and I tumbled back into the box in such a rush that the curtainswere still waving when he came in.

  Slowly he began to place the jewels, one by one, in the order herLadyship puts them on. We Charity girls had often watched him from thedoor--he never let one of us put a foot inside. He was method andorder itself. He never changed the order in which he lifted theglittering things out, nor the places he put them back in. I put myhand up against the top of the box, tracing the spot where each piecewould be lying. Think, Mag, just half an inch between me and quarterof a million!

  Oh, I was sore as I lay there! And I wasn't so cock-sure either thatI'd get out of it straight. I tried the Beryl story lots of ways onmyself, but somehow, every time I fancied myself telling it toObermuller, it got tangled up and lay dumb and heavy inside of me.

  But at least it would be better to appear of my own will before the oldEnglishman than be discovered by Lord Gray and his Lady. I had myfingers on the curtains, and in another second I'd been out when--

  "Miss Beryl Blackburn's compliments, Mr. Topham, and would you step tothe door, as there's something most important she wants to tell you."

  Oh, I loved every syllable that call-boy spoke! There was a gigglebehind his voice, too; old Topham was the butt of every joke. Thefirst call, which had fooled me, must have been from some giddy girlwho wanted to guy the old fellow. She had fooled me all right. Butthis--this one was the real article.

  There was a pause--Topham must be looking about to be sure things weresafe. Then he creaked to the door and shut it carefully behind him.

  It only took a minute, but in that minute--in that minute, Mag, I hadthe rose diamond clutched safe in my fingers; I was on the top of thebig trunk and out of the window.

  Oh, the feel of that beautiful thing in my hand! I'd 'a' loved it ifit hadn't been worth a penny, but as it was I adored it. I slipped thechain under my collar, and the diamond slid down my neck, and I feltits kiss on my skin. I flew down the black corridor, bumping intoscenery and nearly tripping two stage carpenters. I heard Ginger, thecall-boy, ahead of me and dodged behind some properties just in time.He went whistling past and I got to the stage door.

  I pulled it open tenderly, cautiously, and turned to shut it after me.

  And--

  And something held it open in spite of me.

  No--no, Mag, it wasn't a man. It was a memory. It rose up there andhit me right over the heart--the memory of Nancy Olden's happiness thefirst time she'd come in this very door, feeling that she actually hada right to use a stage: entrance, feeling that she belonged,she--Nancy--to this wonderland of the stage!

  You must never tell Tom, Mag, promise! He wouldn't see. He couldn'tunderstand. I couldn't make him know what I felt any more than I'ddare tell him what I did.

  I shut the door.

  But not behind me. I shut it on the street and--Mag, I shut for everanother door, too; the old door that opens out on Crooked Street. Withmy hand on my heart, that was beating as though it would burst, I flewback again through the black corridor, through the wings and out toObermuller's office. With both my hands I ripped open the neck of mydress, and, pulling the chain with that great diamond hanging to it, Ibroke it with a tug, and threw the whole thing down on the desk infront of him.

  "For God's sake!" I yelled. "Don't make it so easy for me to steal!"

  I don't know what happened for a minute. I could see his face changehalf a dozen ways in as many seconds. He took it up in his fingers atlast. It swung there at the end of the slender little broken chainlike a great drop of shining water, blushing and sparkling andtrembling.

  His hands trembled, too, and he looked up at last from the diamond tomy face.

  "It's worth at least fifty thousand, you know--valued at that."

  I didn't answer.

  He got up and came over to where I had thrown myself on a bench.

  "What's the matter, Olden? Don't I pay you enough?"

  "I want to see Tom," I begged. "It's so long since he--He's upat--at--in the country."

  "Sing Sing?"

  I nodded.

  "You poor little devil!"

  That finished me. I'm not used to being pitied. I sobbed and sobbedas though some dam had broken inside of me. You see, Mag, I knew inthat minute that I'd been afraid, deathly afraid of Fred Obermuller'sface, when it's scornful and sarcastic, and of his voice, when it cutsthe flesh of self-conceit off your very bones. And the contrast--well,it was too much for me.

  But something came quick to sober me.

  It was Gray. She stormed in, followed by Lord Harold and Topham, andhalf the company.

  "The diamond, the rose diamond!" she shrieked. "It's gone! And thecarpenters say that new girl Olden came flying from the direction of mydressing-room. I'll hold you responsible--"

  "Hush-sh!" Obermuller lifted his hands and nodded over toward me.

  "Olden!" she squealed. "Grab her, Topham. I'll bet she stole thatdiamond, and she can't have got rid of it yet."

  Topham jumped toward me, but Obermuller stopped him.

  "You'd win only half your bet, my Lady," Obermuller said softly. "Shedid get hold of the Gray rose, worth fifty thousand dollars, in spiteof all your precautions--"

  The world seemed to fall away from me. I looked up at him. I couldn'tbelieve he'd go back on me.

  "--And she brought it straight to me, as I had asked her to, andpromised to raise her salary if she'd win out. For I knew that unlessI proved to you it could be stolen, you'd never agree to hire adetective to watch those things, which will get us all into troublesome day. Here! Scoot out o' this. It's nearly time for your number."

  He passed the
diamond over to her, and they all left the office.

  So did I; but he held out his hand as I passed. "It goes--that about araise for you, Olden. Now earn it."

  Isn't he white, Mag--white clean through, that big fellow Obermuller?